As We Forgive Our Trespassers
by Laura Schiller
Summary: How did Kitty react to the suicide of her best friend and greatest rival?


As We Forgive Our Trespassers

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Anna Karenina

Copyright: Leo Tolstoy's estate/Joe Wright

Kitty put down the letter she was reading, sobbed aloud, and dropped onto the nearest sofa with her hand over her mouth. As soon as he saw her, Kostya dropped his pen and dashed across the room to sit down next to her.

"Darling, what's the matter? Is it Dolly, the children – did something happen – "

"No." She picked up Dolly's letter once again, squinting through her tears at her sister's hasty writing, just to see if there was no mistake. "It's not that. It's Anna …she ... oh, I cannot tell you. Read it yourself."

She held out the letter for him to read, which he did rapidly. His green eyes, when they met hers, were very grave.

"Terrible," he said. "And so young … I knew she was unhappy when we met, but … you don't suppose it could have been an accident?

"No, I don't. She … she never did … anything … by accident."

Kitty closed her eyes, thinking of Anna in the days of their friendship: strong, vibrant, confident, a woman who could light up a room just by walking into it. She remembered Anna at that fatal ball, drawing Count Vronsky into her arms, the proverbial white moth to a dark, smoky flame. She remembered her own husband coming home from that party at Vronsky's apartment, glowing with champagne and admiration, and the bitter scene she had made for fear of losing yet another man to Anna.

"Oh God, how I hated her … what a jealous little fool I was! And all the while, her heart was breaking ... Do you remember how I accused you – _you_ – of falling in love with her?"

"That was a long time ago," Kostya replied, putting his arm around her and stroking her back. "Forgiven and forgotten. Don't worry about it."

At any other time, the idea of her high-strung husband telling anyone else not to worry would have struck her as amusing. Today, she could only cry into his shirt.

"Why a train? Why did it have to be a train? They're so … "

Kitty had been afraid of trains as a child: the roar of the engines, the speed of the huge black cars, the foul-smelling smoke. It horrified her to think of such a gracious, elegant woman being crushed beneath those wheels.

"Well, it was certainly quick," Kostya remarked grimly, probably thinking along the same lines as she was. "There are worse ways to go."

"For God's sake, don't talk like that!" She shuddered. "There are so many _better_ ways to go. Why didn't I forgive her?"

"Kitty … "

"Why did I have to join the entire crowd of people who chose to condemn her? I should have – I should have _thanked_ her for saving me from a lifetime with that man! If I had married Vronsky, he would have been bored with me in a month. If I had married anyone but you, I would have been miserable … perhaps even tempted to do what she has done. I'm not a bit better than she was, Kostya, not a bit. I had no right to judge her … "

"Kitty."

Kostya cupped her face in both his large, strong hands, letting her see the sympathy in his face.

"If I were a believer," he said gently, "I would tell you that a higher power has forgiven Anna already. I would tell you that she knows your thoughts already, that she is watching over you as the loving friend and sister she once was. You believe that, don't you?"

"I am trying ..."

She glanced over at the painting of the Virgin and Child hanging on the wall. They seemed to look back at her with otherworldly pity. Much as she loved them, Kostya's living warmth comforted her more.

"But, leaving the other world out of it," he continued, "Even in this world, don't you remember Anna as she used to be? Don't you think she knew you, as her friend, and understood the natural kindness of your heart? She must have known you would forgive her someday. And today you have."

Kitty thought of Anna in all her glory, teasing her about the upcoming ball, helping her dress, taking a motherly interest in her dreams for the future. She could still see Anna's mane of dark brown curls, the way she swept across the ballroom, the grace and precision of every move she made. It seemed like yesterday.

She wiped her face and leaned against Kostya, loving him too much for words. She had been his anchor during Nicolai's last illness; today, he was hers.

_I forgive you, Anna,_ she thought. _Dear sister, I forgive you. God willing, we shall meet again one day._


End file.
